Pezberry Drabbles
by cornflakesareglutenfree
Summary: Sometimes I fill prompts and/or get inspired to write drabbles. Here is a collection I've probably written and posted on my tumblr. Rating it M for some, not all of the stories. For safety.
1. A touch of Lace

**~o0o~o0o~o0o~**

_Wanderlustlights Prompted: Lace_

_A/N: Since you didn't give a pairing, I made it Hummelberry friendship, with Pezberry and Kurtofsky in the background._

**~o0o~o0o~o0o~**

"It's not right. Kurt, fix it! It's not right!"

"Shhh- Rachel, you need to take a deep breath, okay? It's perfect, you're perfect." he brushed at the beautiful fall of lace where it draped over her hair and down to her shoulders.

She obediently took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"Well that's easy enough." Kurt's tone was dry. "You're getting married, silly." When Rachel was about to interrupt him, he held up a finger. "You're getting married to the single most sought after person in the city, other than myself, of course, but the pools are different." He brushed at his sleeve. "Although, there was that one bisexual choir boy who propositioned both Santana and I in the same week, but really, that was an aberration."

Rachel laughed a little, her nerves calming the tiniest bit. "Have you seen her?"

Kurt smiled mischievously, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps."

"Oh my God, was she stunning? What am I asking, of course she was gorgeous, she always is. What is she doing marrying me? She could have any woman in the city. Any _man_ in the city. In the _world_."

Kurt cut her off again. "But she chose you."

Rachel's eyes went down, her cheeks pinkening with a flush. "Yeah, she did, didn't she?"

Kurt ducked down to her eye level, brushing at her chin. "Remember that time you two argued and then came to Dave and My anniversary party, and you were talking to Finn, completely innocent?" Rachel nodded, a rapt audience. "She watched you two, a martini in her hand for about three minutes, swearing in spanish under her breath before she was up and across the room."

Rachel picked up the story when he paused, a fond smile on her face, though at the time she'd been furious. "She walked right across that room, everyone's eyes on her perfect ass, and she stepped right between Finn and I and kissed me right there. When we left that night, she asked me to move in with her. I'd been trying to get her to live with me for a month, and seeing me and Finn talking was the catalyst for her. And now we're getting married."

"Yeah." Kurt fixed the lace again, even though it was still perfect. "And you get to keep her forever."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she bit down on her lip. "I do, don't I? Oh, Kurt. What would I do without you?"

Kurt gave a wet laugh, emotions getting him as well. "You'd throw a total drama fit and call the whole thing off because your lace is crooked."

"It's WHAT?!"

"Shh... It's perfect, it's perfect, I was kidding."

"Oh. Oh good. You jerk."

A soft knock on the door drew their attention. Dave poked his face inside, speaking softly. "It's time. Tana's at the south entrance, with her parents, and your Dads are at the north entrance waiting for you, but Kurt and I are walking first, so we need to get into position."

"Oh, right." Rachel sniffed, dabbing at her face with the handkerchief she'd tucked into her sleeve, a gift from Shelby the night before. "Let's do this."

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

The garden had a split path that came from either side of the hedge maze, meaning that once Kurt and Dave started down the paths from opposite ends, they faced each other the entire walk. For Kurt it felt like their own wedding all over again. He could see a glow in Dave's eyes that said the same thing.

The music was quiet and steady, but the hush was broken by a happy shriek of "Daddy! Papa!" from the pews. Kurt looked over, waving a little at his daughter, as the crowd of guests broke into small giggles. Carole shushed Sissy where she was sitting between her and Burt, but she was quite wiggly, and the one year old started fussing, and once he and Dave were in position a the front, he glanced to Dave, and receiving his nod, turned to his parents and nodded, waving a hand, and Burt shook his head, but set Sissy on the ground in the center aisle. The crowd watched her waddle up the aisle, determined, and made her way to Dave, who picked her up.

The music changed, and everyone stood as groups appeared at either side of the hedge, making their way to the center. Santana was flanked by Mr and Mrs Lopez, Rachel by LeRoy and Hiram, but Santana and Rachel only had eyes for each other.

Rachel nearly lost her footing when she first glimpsed Santana across the lawn, her slim cut gown falling beautifully, her hair similarly draped in lace, both of which had been hand stitched by Abuela as a wedding gift. Her dark hair shone underneath, curled gently at the ends, a black pearl pendant at her throat, a gift from the Berry's.

Santana turned the corner, bracing herself, and it was a good thing, because she had to stop herself from pitching herself forward in her haste to be near Rachel. The beaded skirts and fitted bodice looked incredible on her petite frame, her chin length hair tucked underneath their matching lace. When they got close enough to make eye contact, it was like electricity shooting through her veins. Her fingers clasped tighter around those of her parents, her seeming only link to the real world.

The paths turned sharply before converging, and they had to pass the Rabbi, pausing at the fork for the four parents to kiss the brides on their cheeks, passing their hands to each other.

Rachel sucked in a breath at the strong grip of Santana's fingers, but looked up, and had to fight back tears again. Her whole heart felt like it would explode, it was beating so hard. There was a "Ma Ma Ma" from behind her, and she turned, laughing when Sissy reached for her. She wrinkled her nose at the little girl, whispering a soft "Not right now, sweetheart." Eventually they'd teach Sissy to call them Aunt this and Aunt that, but for now she called every woman Ma, and it was so sweet that they all just smiled and laughed.

Turning back to the Rabbi, she stepped forward with Santana, their skirts rustling when they brushed each other. The Rabbi excused everyone to sit down again, and the garden became quiet.

He spoke of love and commitment, and spending your life with the person who makes you whole, and dedicating that love and happiness to God, and there was ceremony, and there were quiet words, and promises, but the time passed in a blur for the brides.

Finally he motioned them together, and said "Would you like to kiss your wife?" to neither in particular, but they both came together, lips pressed and tears merging together.

Santana pulled back just a fraction. "You look so beautiful, honey."

Rachel laughed softly. "Not nearly as gorgeous as you. I love you so much."

Then they were kissing again, and the crowd cheered, Sissy clapping and laughing, obviously assuming that the applause was for her. Rachel pulled back and breathed, pressing their noses together. "Hello wife."

Santana sniffed. "Hello wife."


	2. Sissy's Birthday

**~o0o~o0o~o0o~**

_**SaveKenny prompted: pezberry / kurtofsky - birthday celebration?**_

**~o0o~o0o~o0o~**

"Oh my gosh, Kurt- it's in her hair!" Rachel's shriek did nothing for the raucous atmosphere of the party.

Kurt just rolled his eyes. "It's her first birthday, Rache. Cake in her hair is kind of the idea. Makes for better blackmail pictures to show her future girlfriends." At Rachel's sideways look, Kurt relented. "Or future boyfriends." He let out a pained sounding sigh.

Dave was moving around with the camera, switching periodically from video to snapshots, making sure to get everything, from Sissy blowing out her candles to the cake and frosting she'd gleefully massaged into her sparse curls, giggling and squishing her little nose up the whole time.

Rachel dropped her head onto Kurt's shoulder, looking across the room to where Finn was talking to Santana. "Do you think I made the right decision? Not that I'm unhappy, but sometimes I wonder..."

Kurt smacked her on the arm. "Don't be stupid, Rachel. As happy as you thought you were with Finn, he would never have been happy in your life, and you know that if he was unhappy at your side, you'd be unhappy too. So just be grateful that you have your wife, alright? You were never as happy with Finn in high school as you are with Santana, and you know it."

Her head tilted, and her cheeks gained color when her wife turned and caught her eye, and the Latina winked at her. "Yeah." It was a sigh, deep and soft. "That woman makes my knees weak. Do you think I'd be a good Mom?"

The subject change was so sudden that it took Kurt a moment to respond, so he spent it wiping frosting off the wall where Sissy had flung it in her ecstatic cake fit. "Kids? Really? You and Tana?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. When we went out to dinner with Artie and Quinn last week, she was holding Greta, and the look on her face-. I want to have babies with her, Kurt."

"Well, that might be a little difficult, but..."

"Why? I liked being pregnant with Sissy. And I had a baby for you guys, would it be a big deal to give us a baby too?"

"Of course not, but have you talked to her?"

"No. I should probably do that."

"Probably." He leaned over, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "But I think you'd make a great, if overwrought, Mommy, and as to that, so would Tana. I can see it now, little spanish speaking babies running around your loft."

"Oh, God. I didn't even consider that. I need to dig out that rosetta stone I bought a few years ago."

"You should do that. Then maybe you'd know what she calls you during sex. That's why Dave took that online French class." Kurt let out a private giggle, and Rachel felt her jaw drop and she laughed out loud.

"You are too much."

"I know, darling. I really am."

Just then Dave came over to show Kurt some of the pictures on the little viewing screen, and Rachel just stopped to watch them together, cooing over their daughter. Then she looked back over to where Santana was sitting with Carole talking. _Yes,_ she thought, _she definitely wanted to have babies with that woman._


	3. His name is Brody

**~o0o~o0o~o0o~**

_**Kurtbasturbate Prompted: Pezberry prompt: When Rachel tells Santana about Brody (in this scenario obviously Rachel would not be interested) Santana gets jealous.**_

**~o0o~o0o~o0o~**

"And then he went in to kiss me, and I obviously stopped him, but he saw the wall where Finn's name was painted, and since he couldn't see the rest of the space beyond the divider where we'd put up everybody's name from Glee, he thought it was because I was still in love with Finn, and what do you say to that? And so I just didn't say anything, and then he told me that he would respect my boundaries and be my friend and everything, but that whenever we were around each other that he wanted me to know that he would constantly be thinking of kissing me." Rachel blew out a long breath, inhaling slowly, catching her air as she took a moment to recover from her quick dialogue. "And now I don't know how I'm going to hang out with him, but he's like, my only friend at school, and I don't want to lose that, but I think he hopes that once I'm "Over Finn", he can scoop me up, which, technically, he could do, since he's lifted me before, while we were dancing, but that's beside the point. The point being, is that I didn't kiss him, and I just wanted you to know."

Santana was silent on the other end, holding her phone in her palm, staring at the opposite wall of her dorm room as Rachel spoke from her speaker phone setting.

"Tana?" Rachel sounded nervous now, as if her brain had finally caught up to her mouth. "Um… are you there?"

Santana closed her eyes, answering on an inhale. "Yeah." She blew out the breath, opening her eyes and biting her lip for a second. "I'm here." she was picking at her fingernails, thinking hard, but not terribly quickly. "I'm sorry, I just… You can be honest, you know? But… did you want to? Kiss him, I mean?" Her fingers clenched down, and she flinched at the hard pinch on her thumb where it was raw from previous gnawing. "The truth, Rache."

Rachel frowned at her phone, suddenly feeling unsure. "Did I wa- Of course I didn't! How could you even ask me that, Santana? Who do you think I am?" Her voice was obviously hurt.

Santana flinched. "I think you're the girl who made out with Puck because you were angry that Finn had sex with me first, and I think you're the girl who went out with Finn while he had a pregnant girlfriend. You know I love you, with your faults, the way you do with me, but I just want to know the truth."

Rachel sighed loudly. "Fine, Santana. Sometimes I just can't… No, alright. I really didn't want to kiss him, and I felt a moment of panic, not a moment of temptation. I honestly don't want to kiss anyone else." She was rolling her eyes, and she wondered if Santana knew.

"I can hear you rolling your eyes at me. And I'm sorry." She was digging at her thumb again without thinking. She couldn't help it.

"Stop picking at your fingers. And you should put something on the places you've already made yourself bleed." Rachel hummed a little. "I wish you were here, and I could put the neosporin on it for you."

Santana closed her eyes and stilled her fingers with a conscious clench. "Me too. I miss you."

"Miss you more." There was a jingling on Santana's end, and she jostled the phone for a moment before coming back. "Look, babe, my room-mate just got home and I've gotta go to sleep. Practice at six in the morning again. I'll talk to you tomorrow, though. Love you."

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, biting down on her helpless tears of loneliness. "I love you too. Tell Janice I said Hi, alright? Okay. Sleep well, and cheer hard. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Bye."

"BYE, RACHEY POO!" A muffled yell from behind Santana made Rachel laugh wetly.

"Janice says goodnight too." Santana sounded snide.

"Goodnight you two."

"Night."

"Night."


	4. cake

Anonymous Prompted: Pezberry miss each other thru the bedroom wall.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Rachel knew she was being stubborn, but this was really important to her, and she wasn't going to give in. She huffed, leaning back on the couch, reaching up to fluff the pillow she'd snagged from the hall closet. She glared at the wall that separated the living area from their bedroom, coming up with ways to get even with Santana for her having to sleep on the couch.

Not that it was really Santana's doing. Rachel had declared that if Santana couldn't do this thing for her, then she simply couldn't sleep beside her. She'd stomped away, determined to sleep in the living room. Kurt had looked at her oddly when he'd come in and headed for his room on the opposite end of the apartment, but he hadn't asked any questions when he'd seen her acid gaze. He'd just waved and passed through with a raised eyebrow, and a glance at the closed bedroom door.

~o0o~

On the other side of the wall, Santana was lying in the bed, glaring at the ceiling. Rachel was being a spoiled brat. She'd been willing to discuss the menu again, come up with a compromise, but Rachel had been adamant that the entire menu be vegan, when she knew Santana's Abuela was making the cake by hand. Santana refused to tell her Grandmother that they'd get the cake from a vegan bakery, and Rachel had gone on a tangent about the torture of helpless animals, blah blah blah.

Not that Santana was really against being animal friendly, but just last week Rachel had ordered shrimp and tuna rolls for lunch, so this hissy fit was just that, and she wouldn't back down, especially when it would be at the expense of the tenuous peace with Abuela. Besides, she made the best frosting_ in the world_.

~o0o~

When Rachel woke up, it was still dark outside, and she reached for her phone on the coffee table, clicking the button to see that it was only one am, and that she hadn't slept more than half an hour, but when she sat up, she realized that she had an awful crick in her neck. She rubbed at it, and felt tears come to her eyes. She wanted Santana and her magic hands to fix it. She glared at the wall for a long moment, then shuffled up, moving to the door, breathing a sigh of relief when it opened smoothly, and moved into the bedroom.

"Honey?" The lights were off, and it was hard to tell if Santana was awake.

Santana had been lying awake, going over and over the argument in her mind."Hmm? I'm up." She reached over for the lamp, scowling at the way that Rachel's tear filled eyes flinched at the light. "What's wrong?"

Rachel looked down, staring at her toes as she moved closer to Santana's side of the bed, not making eye contact, even when their knees bumped. "I have a crick in my neck. From the sofa. It really hurts." She knew her voice was small, but she couldn't help it.

Santana's eyes softened, tugging at Rachel until she was sitting across her lap. "C'mere." She brushed her hair aside, ghosting her hands over the clenched muscles, rubbing, squeezing, and releasing, working Rachel's neck until she felt her tension ease. "You can sleep in here, you know. It's your bedroom, too."

Rachel pressed her forehead into Santana's neck, tucking her hands around her waist. "I'm sorry. Of course your Abuela should make the cake. I don't know why I argue the way I do."

Santana laughed softly, sliding back on the bed, taking Rachel with her, so they were lying across it, tucking their feet into the covers. "I do."

"You do, do you?" Rachel asked.

"Of course I do." she snickered. "It's for the makeup sex."

"Well, there is that."


	5. talk to me in your dreams

Foxchaos prompted: Pre relationship pezberry. Movie night, when Rachel falls asleep on top of her, Santana doesn't have the heart to make her move. Rachel then starts to talk in her sleep.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Rachel really was a lightweight. They were only halfway through the standard post finals viewing of 'John Tucker Must Die' , and she'd only had two glasses of the pink sparkly wine Santana had brought with her, but Rachel was down for the count.

They'd laid down the futon in the living area, brought in every available pillow and snack mix, and their bottle of wine, and somehow Rachel had ended up sprawled across the entire mattress, including Santana's half, meaning that Santana had a chest full of snoring, nuzzling Rachel Berry.

She considered pushing her off and rearranging the pillows, or even moving to sleep in Rachel's empty bed, or Kurt's, but then the snoring slowed, and Rachel tucked herself into Santana's side, nuzzling into her shoulder.

Santana had just gotten back into the movie, allowing herself to enjoy the warm snuggle, when Rachel started to murmur. At first, she thought she'd woken up, but when she looked down, Rachel was obviously still asleep, and mumbling in her sleep.

The words got clearer after a little while, and Santana even considered answering her, but was still only halfway paying attention, because it was getting to the good part, and the hippy was crawling into the car with Brittany Snow, and then just as they were about to kiss, Santana heard Rachel say her name and turned back to her. "What?"

Rachel's nose was tucked into Santana's collar bone, and her voice was muffled. "Santana brought me wine, but wouldn't fuck me."

Santana froze, forcing herself not to laugh out loud at the almost angry tone of Rachel's voice. "Oh yeah? How rude. Did you ask her to fuck you?"

Rachel's face screwed up in her sleep. "No." there was a pause, and her voice was more of a mumble again, so Santana turned down the volume to catch the rest. ".. and she should know that kind of thing cause she knew when I liked Finn, and she knew when I liked Quinn, and then she gives good advice and she knows I like her. I'm sure of it but she won't fuck me."

Santana bit her lip, sure that Rachel muttering angrily in her sleep was the most hilarious and adorable thing she'd ever seen. "Maybe you should tell her. Maybe she doesn't know." She was watching her now, absorbing every facial tick and grimace.

"I'll tell her, that's right. Make good lady babies with her. Just gotta finish the cookies first."

Santana couldn't hold in her broken laughter at that, and soon Rachel was sitting up from her shaking frame. 'What the hell? When did I fall asleep? Crap! I missed the best part of the movie! We have to skip back!"

Santana sat up, following her to the other side of the futon. She saw Rachel's eyes go wide when she grabbed her by the cheeks, but then they were kissing, and Rachel's arms were around her neck, and there was a soft, breathy moan, and Rachel pulled away long enough to say that maybe she didn't need to watch the movie after all.


	6. i bet you

_Anonymous Prompted: Pezberry, established relationship. Rachel and Santana make a bet before heading out to a night of dancing. Rachel thinks that Santana won't be able to keep her hands to herself, and Santana disagrees. Build up and explosion, Santana wins the bet. _

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

"What do you want to bet that I can keep my hands to myself all night?" Santana had her hands on her hips, and her haughty look would have made most people fearful, but Rachel was (mostly) immune to it. "You name the terms."

Rachel matched her pose, sticking her nose up in the air and giving a mocking scoff. "Anything, huh? Well I say that you'll have staked your claim, just like always, by the time we're ready to come home, and when I win, I want a back rub when I get home every day this week." She raised her eyebrows, not allowing herself to show any weakness.

Santana nodded in agreement, her stoic demeanor unflinching. "Agreed. And when you lose, you have to do /that/ thing."

Rachel threw her arms up in the air, incredulous. "What?! You can't make me do /that/!" She pointed her finger at her wife, glaring for good measure. "I won't agree to it."

Santana just shrugged her shoulders and gave Rachel a smug look. "In or out, Streisand. Make up your mind."

Rachel thought hard for a long moment, staring down at the grain of the hardwood floors they'd had put in the preceding fall. Finally coming to a decision, she squared her shoulders and met Santana's dark, laughing gaze. "Fine. But only once, and only for you. No witnesses!"

Santana grinned, but contained her glee at the obvious win. She stuck her hand out to shake Rachel's over the agreement, but when their hands impacted, Santana yanked her forward, pressing their lips together, making it dirty, then pulled away. She put her hands out to the sides, and motioned to the space between them. "Time starts now. You can pay up when we get home."

It took Rachel a few seconds to clear her head and recognize the words, and then she was watching as Santana left the room, heading to the hallway. "Hey! I won't be paying anything! You can rub my feet later! You hear me? I'm going to win!"

The only response was Santana's dry laughter echoing down the hall.

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

The feeling of the club is electric. The drinks are delicious and plentiful, the music is great, the DJ is /on/, and... Rachel is dancing without her wife. Oh, she's not alone. There's a constant hive of activity around her, and she feels the music in her veins, only made hotter by the way Santana is watching her from across the space of the dance floor, where she's also partnering chastely with various and sundry along with the pounding beat.

Rachel had thought that she would have Santana in the bag by now, and as she glances through her lashes, she realizes that her time is getting short. Time to win this. Go big or go home, she thinks, and murmurs to the woman pressed behind her, and gets an approving nod, and a hand up, helping her up onto the dancing platform.

She lets herself fall into the movement and the song, knowing that she looks her best when she's at her most comfortable, and lets time fall away. This has to work. It just has to.

~o0o~

Santana can feel her blood begin to boil as the stranger women positively /paw/ at her wife. She controls herself, though. She knows she brought this on herself, and so long as Rachel doesn't appear to be in distress, she can handle herself. Rachel might be small, but she's mighty, and has learned a thing or two from Santana about surviving in the wrong part of town.

She lets herself dance off the edge of her agitation, and lets the beat of the music dull her senses just enough to enjoy herself. She's doing fine right up until Rachel gets a boost, (and she could break that dirty lez's hand for touching her wife's ass,) and then Rachel is grinding with a full bodied, gorgeous club dancer, using moves that she usually reserves for when they're dancing with one another, and Santana knows that it's going to be a close one. She'll admit it, she's a possessive wife, but she also really has a stake in winning this thing. And if Rachel makes the winning worth her while, she might even consider letting her have her massages anyway. The thought makes her smirk, and she turns her back to the platform. She's got this in the bag.

~o0o~

The entire cab ride is spent in seething silence, at least on Rachel's half of the bench, where she sits with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Santana is too busy grinning widely to be very concerned. She's got her hands linked behind her neck, leaning back and letting the cool night air calm her overworked, overheated body.

They make it back to the loft they've shared since Kurt moved out back in college, and Rachel moves to head for the shower, but Santana grips her by the upper arm, spinning her around so they're facing one another, and just as Rachel is about to complain, her mouth is occupied by Santana's, and then the whole world falls away as the heat of the evening is reignited with a sudden flood of feeling.

Santana isn't sure which bed she's got Rachel pressed into, doesn't recall getting her there, but she doesn't much care as she strips her club dress away, yanking panties away and tossing them over her shoulder. Rachel can only cry out and moan pitifully as long nails and slim fingers slide from her hair down her throat, scratching softly over collarbones and breasts, providing pressure and friction, and then coming to rest on Rachel's thighs. Santana climbs up onto the bed between those slim, muscular legs, moving straight for her goal, knowing that the past three hours have been plenty of a prelude for both of them, and knows she was right when she uses her mouth and fingers, finding her wife sweet and sopping.

It's not long until Rachel is thrashing and screaming, and then she's tearing at Santana's clothes, somehow still present, and pressing her wife into the pillows, worshipping Santana's breasts with her mouth and hands, letting her thigh press right where Santana enjoys it the most, and it's nearly instantaneous, the explosion that seems to rock from Santana's core outward. Rachel can feel it in the grip of her hands, the seizing of her body, and allows herself to be pulled into a slow, slack kiss.

~o0o~

It's the following night that Santana collects her winnings, and she lets the anticipation roll over her.

There's the click of shoes on the hard floor as Rachel enters from the bathroom, and she can't help but grin at Santana's obvious pleasure. She lifts the football helmet from under her arm and yanks it over her head, tucking her braids into the sides.

She'd wondered if it was stupid to keep the uniform after her short stint on the team, but since they'd had to special order the gear for the girls, Coach Bieste had said it wasn't a problem, and she'd been to sentimental to get rid of it outright. Now, knowing how much of a turn on it is for her wife, she's glad she'd kept it all those years. She poses, one cleat on the coffee table, and knows that the football unform pants pull in a flattering way, and lets her eyes run up from Santana's regulation white sneakers, up to the split skirt she'd somehow sneaked away from Sue Sylvester at some point. "Too bad there's no cheerleaders around to cheer me on."

Santana stands from the couch, coming around so she's behind Rachel, letting her eyes drag down her frame, sliding her hands to follow. "Oh, I think I could cheer you on. I am a winner, after all."


End file.
